Chapter 249: Heaven’s Wrath
Kael moved.
One moment he stood at the warehouse entrance, the next his Shadow Slayer blades were already cutting toward Rook’s throat.
CLANG.
Rook’s poisoned daggers caught the strike—barely. The impact sent shockwaves up his arms, his Tier 2 weapons screaming against the Special Grade blades that should have shattered them instantly.
"How—"
Kael didn’t let him finish.
The assault was relentless—blade after blade descending in a rain of black steel. Rook’s daggers moved frantically, blocking, deflecting, desperately trying to create space. But Kael gave him nothing. Each parry led directly into another attack. Each dodge brought him closer to the next strike.
Rook’s poison ability flickered. Green energy gathered around his daggers, seeking any opening—
Lightning Body activated.
Golden arcs covered Kael’s form as his speed tripled. Rook’s eyes widened, his body trying to react—
Too slow.
Kael’s blade opened a gash across his chest. Another carved his shoulder. A third nearly took his ear. The Scavenger stumbled backward, blood streaming from half a dozen wounds, his daggers barely keeping up with the afterimages left by Kael’s movement.
Meanwhile, the warehouse floor had become a battlefield.
Rook’s elite warriors—thirty men at Foundation Establishment to early Mana Heart—had engaged Kael’s soldiers. The difference was immediately apparent. Kael’s forces fought with coordinated precision, each squad covering the others’ blind spots, each attack flowing into the next. The bandits fought like what they were—criminals and thugs who had never faced disciplined military opposition.
A bandit lunged at a soldier with a war axe. The soldier sidestepped, drove his sword into the man’s kidney, and moved to the next target without pause. Another bandit tried to flee—two soldiers intercepted him, one pinning his arms while the other opened his throat.
The elite warriors were being systematically dismantled.
Back on the platform, Rook was dying.
Every exchange left him more wounded, more desperate. His poison couldn’t find purchase on Kael’s Void Body. His daggers were chipping against the Shadow Slayer blades. His mana reserves were draining faster than he could replenish them.
Kael formed a hand sign.
"Devouring Darkness: Siphon."
Shadows expanded around Kael’s feet—but also around Rook’s. The bandit leader felt it immediately—a cold emptiness in his chest, his mana draining away like water through a sieve. His aura flickered, dimmed, flickered again.
"No—!"
Rook jumped.
He launched himself into the air with everything he had left—mana-enhanced legs propelling him five meters upward, away from the shadows, away from the draining darkness.
Kael appeared above him.
Lightning Body. Shadow Step. The combination put him at the apex of Rook’s jump, looking down at the scrambling bandit with silver-flecked gray eyes that held no emotion whatsoever.
"Lightning Punch."
His fist connected with Rook’s stomach—lightning channeled through the impact, burning from the inside out.
CRACK.
Rook crashed into the ground with bone-breaking force. Stone cratered beneath him. Blood erupted from his mouth as he lay there, twitching, broken, barely conscious.
Kael descended slowly.
"Soul Splitting Blade."
A concentrated wave of soul force struck Rook’s head. The bandit screamed, clutching his skull, his vision going white with agony.
Kael raised both blades. Slaughter Intent flooded the black steel, turning the edges from sharp to inevitable.
"Sky Rending Technique, First Form: Falling Star."
Rook’s eyes widened. With desperate strength, he raised his poisoned daggers—
The Shadow Slayer blades didn’t slow down.
SHLICK.
The Special Grade weapons sheared through the Tier 2 daggers like paper. The red slash continued downward, carrying the weight of death itself.
Rook’s head left his body.
The head rolled across the platform, eyes still wide with disbelief. The body collapsed a moment later, blood pooling beneath the neck stump.
"Kill the survivors," Kael ordered without looking back.
His soldiers finished the cleanup in seconds.
"Move. Let’s keep the momentum and attack the Bloodfang’s base. Now."
The eastern slums of Trevor City were a maze of crumbling buildings and desperate people. At its center stood a massive structure—formerly a guild hall, now converted into the headquarters of Bloodfang Marcus. Four stories of reinforced stone, guarded by two hundred bandits who had made the mistake of thinking numbers meant safety.
Kael stood in the street outside, looking up at the building with a bored expression.
His soldiers arrayed behind him. Thirty Mana Heart cultivators, late to peak rank, veterans of the warehouse assault. Lira and Bruski flanked him.
Kael could feel them through his soul sense. Two hundred signatures packed into the structure. Marcus’s aura burned brightest at the center—Mana Heart Rank 7, flames flickering around his presence.
"I don’t have time to waste," Kael said quietly. "So let’s end this quickly."
He raised his hands to the sky.
At first, nothing happened.
Then the clouds began to gather.
Crackle. Rumble.
The sky above the building started turning dark—not with storm clouds, but with something more concentrated. Energy accumulated in the heavens, drawn from the atmosphere itself, pulled toward a single focal point.
Inside the building, bandits noticed the darkening sky through windows and gaps in the roof.
"Looks like rain," one muttered, not looking up from his cards.
"Must be heavy then," another added, shrugging.
They didn’t understand.
Millions of volts were compressing toward a single coordinate. Lightning arced between clouds in continuous streams—crack, crackle, boom—each discharge stronger than the last. The air itself began to ionize, carrying a charge that made hair stand on end and teeth ache.
Kael’s eyes turned electric white. Lightning wreathed his raised hands, flowing up his arms, connecting him to the gathering storm.
The bandits inside were starting to notice now. The static electricity made their skin crawl. The hair on their arms stood straight up. Something was wrong.
Marcus felt it first—sensing the massive energy accumulation directly above him.
"What the—"
The lightning gathered into a single bolt.
Kael’s voice carried across the slums, calm and cold.
"Thunder God Technique: Second Form — Wrath of the Thunder God."
ZAAAAAAAAAAAAP.
The bolt manifested directly above the building.
One moment the building stood. The next, divine lightning struck from the heavens with the concentrated force of every natural discharge that would have occurred in a two-hundred-meter radius over the next thirty seconds, compressed into a single instant.